Guilty
by tihku
Summary: New 52. Doctor Jenkins decides to try a new method in approaching the Joker's case. The experiment ends with fatal consequences...
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's notes:**_

_New 52, set after the battle between Batman and Joker. Doctor Jenkins decides to try a new method in approaching Joker's case. The experiment ends with fatal consequences... _

_Wow, am I very nervous at the moment! This is the first longer storyline I'll write, and I already know that there is a massive load of background search to do in order to reach the finale. Because of this, the story will most likely be updated quite sluggishly._

_There are slight references to a previous fic 'The Shadow of Your Smile', but you don't have to read it in order to understand the flow of events in this one._

_Thanks for everyone who reads these lines! And – once again – I'd like to give special thanks to __**scarlettholywater**__, __**lovejoker **__(actually, since this story stems from your previous comment, this story __**is **__dedicated to you!) and __**nkslovesponies**__ for reviews/favs/other support!_

* * *

**Introduction**

Doctor Nathan Jenkins pants as he tries to keep up with his visitor's pace. He is decrepit and cannot walk very fast; usually, Batman remembers this and doesn't rush. Today, things are different.

These days, many things are different.

"_He_ came here by his _own _free will?" the dark vigilante asks without looking back.

"Yes", Doctor Jenkins puffs. He looks at Batman's long, steady legs that flash every now and then from behind his cape. Oh, how he wishes to put his cane in front of them and _pull_. "Please, do not hurry. I am an old man. Besides, you can't get into _his_ cell without my help…"

Batman murmurs an apology and slows down. Doctor Jenkins takes some time to settle his breathing.

"Commissioner Gordon brought _him_ in front of the gates. I don't know where _he _had been… _He_ was all soaked and – _hmmm –_ drunk, when _he_ arrived."

Batman glances at the doctor.

"_Drunk_?"

There is bewilderment in his tone.

"Yes. _Drunk_. We couldn't start giving _him_ _his_ medicines before the alcohol had vanished from _his_ system. Fortunately, _he _didn't cause any harm during the process", Doctor Jenkins explains.

He and Batman arrive in front of a metallic door.

Doctor Jenkins frowns.

"It's _him_. I know that you have been skeptic ever since _he _escaped once with the help of an imitator*, but it **is** really _him_ this time."

"… Open the door", Batman says gruffly. Doctor Jenkins lifts his shoulders, places his personnel card into a reader and touches a screen with his hand. The door clangs softly open, and both of the men enter the dim-lit room.

There is a bed, and on the bed lies a body of a lean man in an orange suit. His head is covered under a red, long helmet.

Batman stares at the sight.

"What is that?" he asks, referring to the helmet.

"It's the newest technology of our own engineers", Doctor Jenkins replies enthusiastically. "I'm not familiar with the details of the mechanisms… However, it creates an ideal atmosphere for _his _wellbeing. _His_ eyes, skin and teeth get the optimal level of humidity they need. The material is breathable, but it blocks light and sound completely. We use it only when _he _is sleeping, just like now…"

Batman walks closer to the thin, lying frame. He reaches his hand to the motionless figure as Doctor Jenkins continues his explanation…

"It's locked so that only few people are able to open it. If you want, I can take off _his_ helmet. It shouldn't bother _him _much, as _he_ is through shock therapy–"

Batman touches the unconscious man's palm, when, without a warning, the pale fingers close to the vigilante's hand snap shut. Batman frowns and pulls his arm away; the other man doesn't let go. The man's limp upper body gets slightly lifted from the bed, but the grip doesn't come loose.

"… I don't understand", Doctor Jenkins says, surprised. "He shouldn't be aware of his surroundings…"

"… It's _him_. It's the _Joker_", Batman states as he frees his hand by force.

"How come you are _now _sure of it?" Doctor Jenkins mutters. He places his hand on Joker's, but nothing happens.

"… This is intriguing", he says. "Would you do it again? Touch his hand, I mean."

"…" Batman breathes out and repeats the act. Joker's fingers snap shut again, as if they were spikes of a bear trap. Doctor Jenkins follows the course of events with utter fascination.

"Is this enough?" Batman asks.

"Yes", Doctor Jenkins nods absent-mindedly. "It is…"

Batman leaves the room with Doctor Jenkins escorting him. There are various security points in the asylum, and Doctor Jenkins opens each one of them for the vigilante; however, his mind is completely somewhere else…

… A peculiar idea is forming slowly in his head…

He comes back to reality when they are already in the outer hallway. Batman thanks for the cooperation, turns away…

'_It's now or never_', Doctor Jenkins thinks hesitantly. He gathers his courage and calls out:

"_Wait!_"

Batman stops and looks at him questioningly.

"I've been thinking…" Doctor Jenkins starts nervously. "I have worked with Joker for years, and it has become clear that he… has a clear fixation on you. I am not accusing you of anything, but Joker gets most of his motivation from you. And today…" he shakes his head softly. "I don't understand. I _need _to understand. I'm his _doctor_. My request might sound odd, but… Would you come to visit him again?"

Batman doesn't say anything at first.

"Would that help?" he asks.

"It might", Doctor Jenkins answers. "I'd monitor everything and make notes. Gosh, I've been thinking long about this… Everything we have tried has failed. _You _might be the solution in his rehabilitation."

"..."

Doctor Jenkins looks at the black-and-white floor pattern and leans on his cane with both hands. He is too nervous to stare straight at the vigilante; he is sure that his suggestion will be declined.

"Fine."

Doctor Jenkins lifts his head, sincerely surprised.

"I'll come on Sunday, 9:00 a.m. Make sure it fits."

And with that, Batman vanishes, leaving old Doctor Jenkins in the hall.

* * *

_**Author's notes:**_

_- * A Killing Joke reference_

_- Actually, Batman can get anywhere in the asylum by himself. Poor Doctor Jenkins doesn't just know it._


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's note:**_

_**Warning:**__ This chapter may contain spoilers regarding the end of Lord of the Flies (by William Golding)!_

_Thanks for reading up to this chapter! Fabulous (haha) thanks for __**nkslovesponies**__, __**All Apologies **__and __**lovejoker **__(hey, no worries. I won't become bothered over such a thing! I am not Tony S. Daniel behind this screen, after all… Ooooor am I? Hoho)!_

* * *

_**2. Chapter**_

_**Wednesday, 3:45 p.m.**_

Joker sits on his chair at Doctor Jenkins' office, focused on moving a white, looping string between his fingers. The string is weak; it could snap very easily. The personnel don't want him to strangle anyone with it, so they won't allow him anything stronger.

However, as Doctor Jenkins follows the precise, careful swifts of his patient, he can't help but think of a spider weaving its web.

"So... You finished the books I gave you?" the doctor asks.

"I did", Joker replies. "In _14_ minutes." He pauses. "You shouldn't be so niggardly, Doc 'kins."

"I am sorry, Mister Joker. I'm aware that you are exceptionally agile, but instead of rushing from one book to another, I'd like you to dive deeper into their concepts and themes. I'm interested to hear what you think about them." (_Joker snorts._) "... What if we start with... _Lord of the Flies_?"

"It was otherwise rather enjoyable, but the ending was a complete flop", Joker says indifferently. "The kids were starting to have fun, and then the deadpans came and ruined the party. That's about it."

"Don't you think it's radical to put children to do those acts?" Doctor Jenkins asks.

"Ah, not at all. After all... _All children are mirrors of death_", Joker replies smugly. Doctor Jenkins smiles shortly.

"A quote from _Jean-Paul Sartre_. Clever."

For the first time during the session, Joker glances at the old man behind the desk.

"Oh, so you noticed! I'm almost impressed", he chuckles. "I've made **196** references altogether, and you have caught **37** of them. Not _bad_, Doc, not _bad_..."

Doctor Jenkins lifts his glasses. _Joker sure knows how to compliment and mock him at the same time..._

"_Hmm_. You also read _The Old Man and the Sea_... One of the themes actually fits pretty well with the context of Sartre's quote."

"... Which is, '_Becoming an Old, Feeble Fart and Angsting Over It_'?"

"... If you want to state it that way", Doctor Jenkins sighs. "My intuition says, though, that you have an alternative explanation for the events in the book."

Joker snickers.

"Oh _boy_, do I. It is not just about turning into a _fossil_. It's about how meaningless everything truly is. Nothing we do matters in the long run", he says.

"I am not familiar with teenagers' terminology, but I'm quite sure **that** is _angsting_", Doctor Jenkins comments, trying to intentionally provoke Joker.

He swallows the bait.

"Quite the opposite, Doc 'kins!" the pale man replies gleefully. "I find excessive mirth in this fact – that life is a joke, and death is the final punch line... You see, all these people take everything _goddam_ seriously, be it work, family, outlooks or smarts... They strive to get better, become their ideal self – but then! _**snap**_! life ends right in the middle! And even before that, an ageing artist will notice that they cannot move the paintbrush straight; A musician becomes deaf; A philosopher loses their sharpest saber – their _mind_! Beauty dims, until it's just some rotting flesh in the bin – _just like my face somewhere at this very moment_..."

Joker chuckles.

"... And _relationships_! Friendship, love... A million of acquaintances on _Facebook_; yet there is no-one to really talk to. A mother, suffering from _Alzheimer_, flirts to her own son! A lover, who never gets straight through beneath your skull... Ridiculous! _**Fantastic**_!" (_Joker breathes deeply in_) "... In the end, you notice that everything is just as meaningful as _this. __**frickin**__. game_."

He pauses and shows Doctor Jenkins the string stretched between his fingers.

"_This _is _supposed _to look like _a fish in a dish_... But, does it now, Doc? I'll give ya a hint... **No**, it **doesn't**! It's amusing to do these, but... they don't... make... any. **sense**!"

Suddenly, Joker tears the string into small pieces of thread...

... and bursts into shrill _laughter_.

* * *

**Sunday, 9:04 a.m.**

"Does he know that I'm coming?" Batman asks.

Doctor Jenkins' shakes his head.

"I have heard that he can _sense_ your presence. I want to put that to a test..."

Batman narrows his eyes.

"Does he have any restrictions?" he asks.

"Pardon?"

"Hand cuffs, straitjacket…" the vigilante exemplifies in a calm manner.

"… He has a straitjacket", Doctor Jenkins replies.

"I see", Batman mutters. Unexpectedly, he starts to take the glove of his right hand off.

"What are you doing?" the doctor asks, startled.

"Just a precautionary measure, Doctor Jenkins", Batman murmurs and replaces the glove with another which he took from his utility belt. "I am ready to enter."

"… Very well", the older man mumbles and opens the door. Batman goes in; as for Doctor Jenkins, he sits down on a chair in front of a one-way mirror.

Joker stands on the other side of the room. He has been like that for a couple of hours: catatonic, staring at the white wall. He does that frequently, and when he is like that, nothing seems to catch his attention – not even the nurses that come to give him his tranquilizers.

But now… As the door shuts behind the vigilante, Doctor Jenkins notices that Joker lifts his head without looking back at his visitor.

The doctor stares in awe and listens…

"_Batssss_", Joker hisses. "The _King_ has descended from his throne among the peasantry, just to meet his humble _Jester_? It makes the clown _flattered_, really…"

Batman takes a few steps closer to the pale man.

"… Perhaps you want to… put our last discussion to an end? _Oh_, it truly was _shocking _to both of us! _Hee_. Too bad, too sad… I can't talk. You see… A certain _**bat **_got my _tongue_–"

Suddenly, the Joker turns around. He has his tongue stuck out, and for a while, Doctor Jenkins thinks that he is trying to mock Batman… But then, Joker parts his teeth – after which the white rows start to close startling quickly! – Batman catches the gap between the two men and _shoves his hand into Joker's mouth!_

Without even noticing it himself, Doctor Jenkins rises from his seat.

"_**Ghg**_", Joker manages to give out a muffled sound. He stares straight at the vigilante.

"No. You are **not **going to die that way", Batman gnarls. "_Biting your own tongue off _would be far too _easy_ a solution for you."

Joker sinks his teeth deeper into the hand in his mouth and growls lowly.

"I am not here to continue our last meeting. I actually regret revealing that much to you", the vigilante admits.

Doctor Jenkins has no idea of what the two are talking about, and he frowns heavily.

"I forgot that by doing so, I risked breaking my _one rule_. You almost _killed yourself_ by falling down from the cliff."

Joker glances downwards.

"I am not going to tell you anything further by force. However… I will wait for a day you seek _me_ for the knowledge _yourself_", Batman continues. "If I take my hand away, will you promise not to try biting your tongue again?"

"…" Joker nods his head softly.

The vigilante breathes out and slides his hand from the other man's mouth.

Joker is between coughing and hysteric laughter.

"_Batssss… _You _rough lover_, you! _Thrusting_ yourself so _deep_ into me that I almost _gag_", he howls in glee and receives a glare from the other man. "But, do tell me… Have you changed clothing stores? Your glove tastes more _rubber-ish_ than ever before…"

"… This is a lighter version of my normal accessory. Didn't want to bother the **dentist**…"

The statement makes Joker just crack even more. He drops on his knees and onto the floor.

"_You _– you are exceptionally _considerate_ today!"

Batman stands silently next to the man that rolls on the padded surface. Eventually, Joker runs out of breath and calms down. He remains lying on his back and looks up at the vigilante.

"So… _Have the little birds told you what I said_..?" he asks, and his tone becomes suddenly sinister. Batman doesn't answer, which only seems to fuel Joker's glee. "_Hee_. Thought so."

The vigilante crouches and grabs Joker by his collar.

"I would **choke** it out of you, but we are under watch", he snarls at the clown's face. Joker cackles.

"_Gooooood_. As I have stated to you earlier… '_Temper_, _temper… Lose it in here, they may not let you leave*'_. I am not sure whether I would prefer you in or outside this _**toy box **_these days, though… You see, I am still quite… _mad… _at **you**", Joker hisses the last word. "Anyhow, I messed your merry little family up rather nicely, so I guess we are close to being even."

"_You–_" Batman rises his voice, but all of a sudden, he stops. He drops Joker back onto the floor and brings his hand closer to his ear as if he was listening to something.

"_Geez_, what's the matter with your hand muscles? They don't seem to be able to keep a hold of me nowadays…" Joker mutters, slightly annoyed. Batman doesn't reply; he is focused on something else.

"… I have to go. There is a bank robbery going on", he finally announces.

"Ah. Ha _ha_. _Hee hee_. Of course. A _King _has to maintain law and order in his lands. Go, _go, __**go**_! But _remember_, I'll be very disappointed if you don't bring me _souvenirs_ next time", Joker giggles, and Batman looks at the "_mirror_" on the wall.

Doctor Jenkins takes the hint and opens the door for Batman.

"You have to leave already?" the doctor asks. "I won't get much material from a 37-minute session..."

"This is an emergency, Doctor. I'll come back later – but I don't have time to discuss that **now**", the vigilante murmurs tensely. He walks past Doctor Jenkins, who cries after him:

"_Wait! You need me to get past – _**oh.**_"_

…. His sentence is cut as Batman is nowhere to be seen.

* * *

_**Author's random notes:**_

_- Dear old "Doc 'kins" missed Joker's indirect reference to __**Cat's Cradle**__ by Kurt Vonnegut, so now his score is 37 / 197._

_- Batman has the highest score in pointing out the references... 265 / 268. He has missed some quotes from children's books, a trivial fact that Joker is particularly amused of. The Riddler is a (very__**!**__) close second. However, Ra's al Ghul would probably be the winner if only Joker had the chance to test his knowledge. Ra's has, after all, time on his side!_

_- Oh whoa wooh. Scott Snyder left Joker and Batman's last meeting into such a situation, it was pretty challenging to make them interact face-to-face again. I hope that I didn't screw everything up just now!_

_* A Broken City reference_


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's notes:**

_This chapter mentions Tokyo Doesn't Love Us Anymore (by Ray Loriga). There are no spoilers regarding this book, but it might be quite handy to know that it's about a man who sells drugs that wipe memories away._

_After posting the previous chapter, I heard that DC has done changes to the speech bubbles in the Death of the Family arc. The hardcover version doesn't (?) have any mentions of Joker calling Batman "a king" and so on. Sooo, if you have read only that version, well, I didn't come up with all that King and Jester stuff. Just so you know._

_Hey, thanks for staying on this channel! And, special thanks to __**lovejoker **__and __**Emma **__(You two really make me blush..! I must confess, though, that I know only a little of the Batman universe. Therefore, it is for the best that I stay as an anonymous fan over here and enjoy the comics others create! But really - thank you!)._

* * *

**3. Chapter**

**Monday, 9:25 a.m.**

"You let him in, didn't cha?" Joker asks perkily as he is dragged from his cell to the long, monotonous passage.

"_Hmmm_", Doctor Jenkins merely hums. "Would you let go of the _doorpost_, Mr. Joker? The door will automatically close soon, and it could crush your _toes_."

"You did!" Joker exclaims enthusiastically, ignoring the warning. "You really _**did**_! Oh _damn_. I always knew that you were a _voyeur_, doc, but I never guessed that you'd get the kicks out of _bats_ and _clowns_ doing – _**hey**_!"

One of the personnel breaks him away from the doorpost. Then, they take a hold of his legs and haul him so that his upper body is lying on the hard floor.

"_Pffth_. Well, **this **is embarrassing. _Hee_ _hee_", Joker puffs. The friction of the surface pulls his outgrown hair backwards.

Mad Hatter peeks out from a small window that is on the door of his cell.

"_Your hair wants cutting_", he mutters gloomily. "Just as much as your _**throat**_."

"_**Auuuugh**_, not **again **with this! Lissen, _Maddie_, and **lissen** for once! – I did **not **break your _frickin_. **wussy**. leg. It was a phony!" Joker screeches his teeth together in annoyance.

"_**It was you, you lying **__**bastard**_", Killer Croc gnarls from another cell. _**"We saw it with our own eyes! You – **__**fingering**__** and **__**drooling**__** the goddam Batman all over!**_"

"I did **not –**"

"_Sentence first – verdict afterwards_!" Mad Hatter yells. "_**Off with his head**__!_"

"That's it! I'm **so** not inviting you to the _slumber party_ next week", Joker snaps.

Mister Freeze unexpectedly cuts in from his temporary chamber:

"Joker is speaking the truth. It was not him."

"Ah! **Finally**! I'll grant ya a thousand of kisses, Snowy Pants – **oh**, but then my lips would get all frozen and stuck to you. So, maybe not." Joker giggles and then, startles theatrically, as if in realization. "**Agh**. What the heck am I raving? I don't even have lips! _Hee_. Anyhow... What gave the impostor away, _Vics_? _Pleeeease_, do tell me they weren't as pretty as I am..."

Mister Freeze sneers faintly.

"They fought better than you ever would."

Joker gives out an infuriated roar, and the passage gets filled with the laughter of other inmates. Doctor Jenkins is relieved that they are already in front of the shock therapy room – his patient is starting to become difficult to restrain.

"**Lemme **_**go**_! I'm gonna thrust _**a**_ _**rubber duck**_ into their windpipes and then, let them suffocate, _**quacking**_ all the way through!"

The doctor sighs. Joker struggles when the assistants fasten him onto a cold, metallic surface. Eventually, his stamina runs out, and he calms down; however, he still mumbles frenziedly utter nonsense, his ribs rise and fall rabidly, his fingers tap the metal in aggressive manner.

It might not be the best time to address him, but Doctor Jenkins does so nonetheless.

"… I've been thinking", the doctor starts when they have finally got Joker ready. The lying man's eyes fixate on him sharply.

One of the assistants goes for the trigger…

"… Of what you said earlier. About the futility of everything", Doctor Jenkins continues, frowning. "Why do you put so much effort on Batman?"

"**Oh** my, doctor. Haven't you noticed?" Joker replies tensely.

"… It **is** because of _those very attempts _wasted on _him _that I have such a view."

And with that, the assistant pushes the button.

* * *

**Thursday, 12:13 p.m.**

"Have you had any problems with the new helmets?"

Doctor Jenkins is in the cafeteria, eating lunch with his colleague Dr. Carver*.

"No. How come?" Doctor Jenkins replies.

"_So... It __**is**__ just an exception_", Dr. Carver muses to herself. "There is something wrong with Jane Doe's helmet. The locking system seems to be damaged. We had to remove the headgear by force."

Doctor Jenkins' fork stops halfway.

"_Really_?" the question slips from his mouth. "Well, the technology _is_ quite new. We should have been aware that this sort of issues might occur."

"True... By the way, how have your sessions with the J_ok_**–**" Dr. Carver starts, but suddenly stops. She is looking at something behind Doctor Jenkins, who turns around.

A tall, dark figure stands right next to their table.

"... Are you coming to visit _him __**now**_?" Doctor Jenkins asks, stunned by the sudden change in his schedule. "_He_ is eating at the precise moment."

"So he is not out cold and is able to talk", Batman says gruffly. "That should be more than enough, Doctor Jenkins. Come."

...

"I must admit..." Joker starts. "... that I'm more than _dumbfound _by your sudden _eagerness_ to visit the little old me. You rush in, _shoo _the nurse away, and it is_ the middle of the day_ – sun bright and high and all. Bats are creatures of the night, for _Chrissa__**gurgh**_."

Batman forces the spoon into Joker's mouth. The pale man gulps and breaks in uncontrollable laughter.

"_This... _This is **ridiculous**, you know that? _Right_? Oh _**God**_. I'm going _insane_. I really am." (He takes another spoonful of soup and swallows) "Let's talk about normal stuff, or else my mind is going to _snap_. How did the robbery go?"

"Their plan got foiled", Batman replies. He pauses. "_The Sparrow**_ was behind it."

Joker coughs and some food gets spilled onto his lap.

"_**The Sparrow**_? Is _**she **_back in town?"

"Apparently so."

Joker bursts into giggles.

"Oh, oh, **oh**. So many dolls to **break**, so little time! I still haven't paid her back for the... _refreshing_... experience – lying on a conveyor, waiting for a circular saw to split my brain into two. _Ah_! Those were the days!"

"You are **not **paying any_one_ any_thing_ back", Batman gnarls and passes the last portion of the soup. "Instead, I want you to look at **this**."

Batman brings his hand into one of his numerous, hidden pockets.

"A souvenir? _Aw Batsss_, you shouldn't have..."

The vigilante takes out a photo.

"Do you know this girl?"

Joker looks at the picture.

"Is _this _the so-called _Wannabe-My-Daughter _people are fussing about?"

"... So, you have heard of her", Batman murmurs and frowns.

"_Duh. _Of course I have!" Joker exclaims. "Perhaps I wasn't aware of the Sparrow, but I probably still know this city better than you know your own batty-brats. _Hee_."

"**Shut up**", Batman snarls.

"_Ooooooh_, did I touch a nerve?" Joker replies in a menacing manner. He licks his upper teeth row from left to right. "You really shouldn't be so tight-ass, though, because... _All __happy families __are alike; each unhappy __family __is unhappy in its own way_. Isn't it all just exciting?"

Batman slams his fist onto the table.

"I don't need quotations from _Leo Tolstoy_", the vigilante snaps after which Joker gazes at him admiringly. "**Joker**. What do you know of _Joker's daughter_?"

The pale man lifts his shoulders.

"Well, at least that she isn't mine. And that she lacks some _basic. fashion. __**sense**_. _**Ugh**_, those tattoos..."

Joker shakes his head as if he was a drenched dog trying to dry itself.

"Figured as much", Batman sighs and massages his temples. "What else?"

"_Hmmm_. The mask she is wearing isn't a mere copy. It** is **the real thing", Joker says. "You know, I'm pretty amazed how recyclable my detached skin seems to be! _Hee_. But... just like rotating a ring or throwing a _batarang_ or being born, everything will **return** back to the starting point." (He pauses) "In other words: Either** I** or the _**be**_–_loved_ Nature _Bitch_ will collect our due in time."

Batman glares at the man sitting in front of him.

"It's funny, though. You and I... We have become symbols of sort. There's folk with your logo on their t-shirts and skirts – and even I have one of _**those **_legendary boxers they sell in _Walmart_. Just to disturb your peace of mind. _Heehee._" (Joker stops and giggles) "I've also met with countless copy_bats_ during the nights, and _wel__**ll**__lll_... I gave them my _autograph_. On their _**pancreas**_."

The pale man swifts, but the vigilante stays still.

"On the other hand, as _deliciously_ _**sick**_ as it might be... I have fans too. Do you still remember the club that Gothamites made, just to honor me***? Ooooh, boy. It sure was entertaining to **gas** them all... And then, **this**!" (Joker nods at the direction of the photo) "The gal is wearing my skin as if it were a cheap, plastic _Che Guevara_ mask. I just. I don't even."

He cackles lightly.

"It's a complete mess, _Batsssss_ – deny it all you want, but in the end, your **order** will come back into the arms of my **chaos**."

Batman stands up.

"**Enough**", he snarls. "I've heard **enough** of your **madness**."

* * *

**Friday, 4:18 p.m.**

'_This situation is bizarre_', Doctor Jenkins thinks silently in his little head. He is at his office, sitting on a chair right behind his patient,

_braiding the man's peculiar hair_.

The green strands have grown wildly; they were lapping on the younger man's face. However, the barber wouldn't come until Tuesday, and the personnel know very well not to do the cutting themselves. It is, after all, a lot easier to deal with a calm lunatic than an enraged one.

And thus, there Doctor Jenkins is, twisting three strings of hair around each other.

"You gave me _Tokyo Doesn't Love Us Anymore_ today", Joker says and swallows a yawn. "I guess ya want to talk about it. Or not actually about it. The book is just a _facade_. What you really want to discuss... are memories. Lost ones, to state more accurately."

Doctor Jenkins doesn't reply; sometimes, it is wiser to stay quiet around this man and let him do the talking.

"You are just like your predecessors, Doc 'kins. We play poker, and you try to desperately have a glimpse at my cards. _Hee_. You always stare at the bland paper rectangles instead of _**me**_ – and, in the end, what do you get..? _A dead man's hand****_. **That**'s what! **That's**, _my sweet doctor_, **all** you will **ever** see!" Joker explains excitedly and readjusts himself on his seat. "Of course, this information won't probably stop you from _wasting your time_... You see, doctors of your kind are _necromancers_ when it comes down to it... You prefer the _deceased_ over the _living_. You would really love to crack my _skull_ and fill the _mush_ inside with thoughts, emotions and visions... of a _reanimated __**corpse**_."

He lets his head tilt a bit backwards.

"We are not trying to replace you with someone else, Mr. Joker, if that is what you are implying. We merely want you to remember", Doctor Jenkins comments. Joker puffs and laughs dryly.

"Remember? _**Merely**__ remember_? But why, Doc, what else are we than just ordered packs of nasty, encroaching memories..?" Joker's tone swifts from cheer into disgust. "There might be a reason why '_the former me' _debunked himself. Perhaps he wanted to do a suicide but was too much of a coward to pull the trigger... and so, he decided just to _forget_. A simple and painless procedure, I tell you... but normally, there are obstacles."

Joker sighs.

"We are not alone in this space, Doc '_kins_. There is always someone who has created _a mind map_ of you – that is, a _ghost _of who they _think_ you are. If anything, the authority has recorded some basic _shit_: your name, the date you were born, the schools you attended..." (_The man breathes in heavily)_ "_He _was a lucky **bastard**, Doc, the former me. _He_ truly was. He lost every recognizable trace alongside with _his_ memory. He was able to be born again, not as a _last man_ but as an... _Übermensch_."

"... _Nietzsche_", Doctor Jenkins states indifferently.

"_**Bingo**__!_" Joker says happily. "That was an easy one, though, so no points for you this time. _Hee_."

Doctor Jenkins ties a knot around the braid and gazes at his work. The other man lifts himself up from his slumped state.

"Are you finished?" he asks enthusiastically. "I want to see! Bring a mirror or two, willya?"

The doctor does as asked. Joker stares at the reflection of his hair, tilting his head from side to side.

"_A_ _French braid_, eh?" he finally says. "I didn't take you as a guy that knows how to do this stuff... No offence, doc, but you are pretty much... bald." (_Joker giggles_) "Where did you learn this particular skill?"

Doctor Jenkins opens his mouth to answer, but then, all of a sudden, he realizes:

...

"I ... I... _don't remember_."

* * *

_**Author's random notes:**_

_There was actually an idea for the discussion between Joker and Doctor Jenkins that wasn't used in this final version. If you happen to be interested, it would've gone like this: _

_Joker insists that people build their identity on completely wrong bases and gives an example to highlight his point. In Joker's early days, the police had locked him in a normal barred cell next to another. His 'neighbor' was a radical activist that had shot a politician. The man would've most likely been sentenced for life if not executed; a fact that didn't matter to him one bit: whatever was going to happen, his name would get its place in history books and live on. Joker questioned the man's triumph: the activist was, after all, anything but his mere __**name**__; no-one would actually remember him who he really was. The realization made the activist hang himself in his cell... and this flow of events took about 15 minutes overall._

_Ever since that night, Joker's cells have been excluded from the outer world._

_* Yes: in this story, Anne Carver is alive!_

_** Just to clarify: the Sparrow here is a criminal mastermind from the comic "The Joker and The Sparrow" (1948)_

_*** I remember a story in which a group actually established a fan club for the Joker. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to find it! [If someone happens to have the knowledge, I'd appreciate that they would share the information (:] - EDIT: **Emma **filled kindly the gap - Spectre Vol 3 Issue #51. Thank you!_

_**** Joker speaks of the Dead man's hand also in Batman: R.I.P._


	4. Chapter 4

_**Author's notes:**_

**Warning! **There are _**major spoilers**_ regarding Mary Shelley's _Frankenstein_ and _The Little Prince _(by lovely Antoine de Saint-Exupéry) in this chapter!

_Oh my_. I am astounded that you are actually reading these lines – as it means you have come this far... and I thank you for that! Special flower bouquets to _**darkwolf1121 **_(I hope my explanation helped!), _**deadlydaisy8o8**_, _**Emma **_(You leave me completely speechless over here..! Your comments are simply way too graceful to be describing _my_ measly scribbling. Thank you in any case!) and _**lovejoker **_(and _you_... are you guys trying to make me _explode_ or something..? I'm sincerely surprised that you have remained my guest ever since the very beginning! - and yeah, it sure seems that _Dollmaker_ knows how to make skin extremely durable, haha...)!

* * *

**Thursday, 8:34 a.m.**

"Doctor Jenkins. I am not... questioning your professional discretion, but..."

"_Hmmm_?"

"... are you sure that **this** does not only give fuel to _his_ insanity?"

The vigilante stands in a silent, sparsely furnished room. Doctor Jenkins' voice echoes from stereos:

"Mr. Batman... To be blunt: I don't believe _he_ could become any worse than _he_ already is."

The dark knight scans his surroundings and sighs.

"_He_ asked for **this**", he states. "You are letting _him_ take **control**."

"I dare to disagree. In all reality, **I** am the one in charge. I merely exploit _his_ urges so that I could find a way to fix _him_", Doctor Jenkins replies. "... Should I take your words as regret, Mr. Batman? You can always withdraw from this situation if you wish..."

The vigilante shakes his head slightly.

"No. I will proceed", he says gruffly.

"... Let _him_ in."

* * *

_**Past**_

"_Frankenstein_? _**The Little Prince**_?" Joker screeches from between his teeth. He is extremely irritated. "_Excuse-moi_, doc 'kins, but are you deliberately trying to drive me **out** of my mind? You keep sending me books which I have gone through _ages ago_!"

"My sincere apologies, Mister Joker... With your... _**vast**_... knowledge in literature, it would prove to be... _**extraordinarily**_... _challenging_ to find you anything new to read", Doctor Jenkins says, taking considerable pauses to choose the right words. The younger man exhales heavily and lays his head back onto the armrest of the sofa.

"... If I didn't happen to _adore _the two **to bits**, _doc_... **You** would be the one _ripped_ into _small pieces _with an equivalent amount of such _passion_", he finally states. Doctor Jenkins merely hums – he has become quite tolerant to such threats during the years in the asylum.

"_Hmmm_. Actually, it is good that you are familiar with these books. Perhaps you have considered the hidden meanings beneath the texts... What if we start with – _Frankenstein_?" he suggests.

Joker puffs.

"Oh _doc_. If I wanted to _bullshit_ you right now, I'd provide you with the rudimentary explanation... that _Mary Shelley _wanted to warn us of the advancements of science and all. that. _**jazz**_", he says, pauses and stares at the ceiling. "But perhaps I'll leave that for later. You see, what this book really is about... it's..."

Joker licks his teeth.

"... _love_."

* * *

**Thursday, 8:38 a.m.**

The door opens, and a group of bulky men enter the room. A familiar voice yells in the midst of them:

"Oh, for _Cricket-y_-coo-coo's-**sake**! I **know** that you guys have evident **hots** for me, but could you _pleeeaaasse_ stop _**grinding**_ me God-knows-_**every**__where_! _**Ouch!**_"

The men push a slim figure onto the floor, after which they leave as quickly as they appeared. The door slams shut behind them.

The lying man runs his gloved hand through his hair, pulling the strands back to their place.

"**Hmph**. So. It was just a one-night-stand, eh, _boysssss_?" he mutters dryly. Then, he lifts his head up towards the vigilante –

and in one swift movement, he stands up, dusting his black suit... He takes a couple of hesitant, short steps at first – then, he speeds up...

Batman stays still.

The other man comes closer, reaches his arm... and _– suddenly – _punches the vigilante's abdomen armor!

The hit doesn't make the vigilante move an inch. Joker takes his hand away, shaking it violently as if it was on fire... and cracks up.

"Oh _ow__** ow. Ouch.**_ **Wow**!" he howls between laughter. "I was just _joking_ and you – **you** _actually_ came!"

Batman stares at the other man who stumbles and doubles over.

"_Hee ha haha __**fnnnk**__. _Haa. Oh boy. Oh **boy**! This day would be _perrrrfecto_ if only a certain _baldhead_ in _Metropolis_ were to see this*. Oh. _God_. Somebody, please _pinch_ me or at least bring a _video camera_..."

"**Joker**. I don't have time for your nonsense. Let's get this over and done with."

"_Mmmm._ All work and no play, _eh_? That'sss my dark knight. _Hee_", Joker giggles and lets Batman pull him roughly back up. The clown sneaks his arm to the vigilante's back and takes a hold of the other man's right hand.

Batman frowns heavily.

"_Huh? _Are you uncomfortable with _me…_ _**leading**_?" Joker snickers maliciously. "Don't cha worry 'bout a thing... I don't even have any shoes to stomp on your feet with." (He glances at Batman's boots) "... _Hhhh_. **I** should be the one _scared_ over here."

The vigilante inhales heavily. Joker giggles and turns his head upwards:

"_Maestro_ Jenkins – _**music**_?"

* * *

_**Past**_

Doctor Jenkins drops the papers he was holding.

"**Love**?" he almost coughs the word.

"_Uh-huh_. Haven't you really given a thought to it, doc? There is this creature whose only desire is to be loved; yet, all he receives is _loathing_... even from his very own creator. Consumed with sadness, hatred, _**jealousy**_, the monster goes on a rampage... until he manages to kill Frankenstein_ – by slaughtering everything the man holds dear_! And then, at last, the creature understands – the vengeance does not fill his empty heart... but it's too late! _Too late_!" Joker explains vividly and breaks in shrill laughter. "_Ahhhh_... how I enjoy _happy_ endings!"

The doctor stares at the trembling figure of his patient.

"Do you have empathy at all?" he sighs, collecting the papers that slipped his grasp earlier. Joker stops laughing and turns to look at the older man.

"Empathy... As in, do I _understand_ feelings?" the pale man asks. "Have you ever considered how come I am so... _**effective**_ in _head-shrinking_..? I'll give ya a hint... It's the same, raw **force** which makes common folk take a hold of their phones for a donation – when _starved_ children flash on charity programs. It's the same **drug **of the mind which _charlatan_ cult leaders feed – as they make their sheep swallow _cyanide capsules_."

Joker cackles smugly.

"_**Emotions**_, doc! Say what they will, dry rationality won't ever make the world go round. I have the upper hand simply because I. _**do**_. understand feelings... even _too _much for **your** own _goo__**oo**__ood_. _Hee_."

Doctor Jenkins chews his patient's rambling for a while.

"... You speak of mere _understanding_. However – without a doubt, you have also experienced some emotions yourself... from anger to _twisted _glee... but have you ever felt any _positive_ emotions, Mr. Joker? Such as... _love_?"

Joker snorts.

"Funny. You know, doc 'kins... A certain _feline _figured the answer to that question not so long ago**. And it took her _years _to do so! _Geez_. You guyssss **disappoint** me. You always find the _needle_ but not the _hay_ hiding it. _Hmph_", he puffs in annoyance.

"... You do love _him_, don't you?" the doctor asks warily – and receives a sharp glare from the other man.

* * *

**Thursday, 8:49 a.m.**

A rhythmic, cheerful melody fills the air. Joker listens to it, nodding his head softly to the tempo.

"A** cha-cha** version of _Tea for two_?" he muses to himself. "_Ooooooh _this is simply. _fan_. _**tastic**_! You know, Batsss, I am a secret admirer of all _Cuban_ stuff..."

He takes a forward step with his right foot, only to stomp against the vigilante's frigid figure.

"_Heeeey_. What's yer problem?" the pale man asks.

"... You are doing it wrong. You are supposed to start with your _left _foot", Batman explains. Joker puffs through the narrow slits on his white mask.

"Who cares?" he replies. "_C'mon_, big, bad, bat-boy. _Relax_ a little bit and forget your formulas for a change. _Oooooor_ is improvising that **hard** for you?"

"There is no point in dancing if we don't follow the step instructions."

Joker puffs again – this time, more aggressively.

"Oh _**really**_? I'll show you –"

* * *

_**Past**_

"Do you _really_ have to?" Joker replies tensely. "That's. _it_. Next time someone _asks_ or _states_ the **obvious**, I promise to _nail _a **time bomb** to their _forehead_ and, all innocent, ask: _how much time do you have left_..?" (He pauses) "_**Whoa**__._ Hold your_ horses_! That **is** actually pretty _amusing_, now that I think about it... _Hee hee!_"

"I hope that you would still bare with my questions for a while, Mr. Joker..." Doctor Jenkins says in an apologizing tone. "But, would you enlighten me? Why _him_ – why not somebody else?"

"Honestly?" Joker asks. "Don't – uh, actually, just **do **– take this personally, but you all happen to _**suck**_. _my. soul_. You are _Pictures of Dorian Grey_: It takes just a tiny-winy _pinch _of my cynicism, and you get all _deranged_ and _gross_... _He_ doesn't. That's the difference."

"... You know that your actions hurt _him_, yet you keep on doing them..?" the old man states in a questioning manner.

"Do I care for him? _Without a doubt_. Do I hurt him? _Absolutely_. But, you see, those who inflict you pain also _do you the biggest favor_... They _force_ you to become better, _wittier_, _**stronger**_", Joker says enthusiastically. "I am the **Lucifer** to _his _**God**, making sure that _he_ won't ever fall asleep and be buried into an early grave... You see, deep down, all gods are lazy _slackers_ – and, mind you, I speak from utter experience***! _Hee hee!_" (He pauses and giggles)_ "_Anyways... They get all smug and **stuck **if there is no-one to kick their _arses_. So. Uh. **There**! Are you satisfied..?"

Doctor Jenkins exhales audibly.

"Mr. Joker. Have you ever considered... that you could be _happier_ if you let down your barriers? Stopped deliberately breaking people, allowing them instead... _to_ _tame you_?"

* * *

**Thursday, 8:57 a.m.**

Doctor Jenkins can't help but laugh in front of his monitor, shaking his head softly.

The two only started... and _what _are they _already_ doing? Joker spins here and there around the vigilante, who in turn sulks as if he was a gargoyle statue on the top of Wayne buildings. The pale man pulls, pushes, drags and rams. No success.

What's even more ridiculous, Joker is wearing the suit Doctor Jenkins found from his own wardrobe the other day. He had completely forgotten the outfit; it was clear that it had been long since he had used it. He tried to put it on himself at first, but his current shape is remarkably different from the one of his younger years.

Doctor Jenkins undressed, sighed, looked at the suit in his hands. The clothes were as if they had been taken straight from a store. It would've been a pity to put them back to the wardrobe, only to be forgotten once again.

That's when he got the odd idea... he took the suit to work, showed it to his patient...

and for the first time, Doctor Jenkins knew that he had managed to surprise the other man: a fact that – secretly – still makes the doctor particularly proud.

The hems are undeniably too short, but it is surprising that the clothes fit the tall, slim figure at all to begin with.

Doctor Jenkins smiles.

Joker is hanging from Batman's thick neck, when the vigilante finally snaps. He rips Joker's grip off, places the protesting man in front of him and readjusts their position – with the roles reversed.

"Doctor Jenkins. **Waltz**_**.**_"

* * *

_**Past**_

Joker glances at the doctor.

"Oh** my**, doc!" he exclaims gleefully. "Are you trying to play my own game against me – by referring to _**the fox**_ from _The Little Prince_? You are a _cutie pie_, doc! You really are. _Hee. _But, since you have the book wide open on your desk... _look a bit further_. After befriending the fox, the little prince goes to the millions of roses and says: _You are empty_... He accuses them for being aloof – for not letting anyone become special to them. Yet, instead of getting to know _these_ flowers, he craves after the one he cannot see or touch anymore... Isn't it just _**hilarious**_?"

Doctor Jenkins slams the book shut.

"Frankenstein's monster _killed himself_. The little prince got _bitten by a snake_. Is this truly the end you want?"

"Perhaps", Joker chuckles lightly.

"But it's still far more entertaining than talking to _empty roses_."

* * *

**Thursday, 9:11 a.m.**

The doctor shuffles between songs, until he stumbles upon _Shostakovich_'s second waltz. The quiet sound of instruments tiptoes from the stereos; then, it changes fluidly into a flow of different timbres that take over the empty space.

Batman takes a step and –

Joker swifts accordingly. The vigilante leads the other man, making them slowly rotate...

Doctor Jenkins is astounded by the sudden change of style. Just a minute ago, everything was a complete fiasco. But **now**... The two dance in a _perfect_ sync. The doctor leans closer to the computer screen as if it would make him see better.

He follows every step... tries to desperately find clues in the unnoticeable details...

until he becomes drowned in the world of movement, music, color –

and suddenly, when he blinks his eyes, he doesn't see two people dancing anymore. There is just his empty, black suit, _floating _in the air by _itself_. Doctor Jenkins backs off on his seat by pure reflex and almost knocks the chair over.

He rubs his eyes.

His suit is still there – all alone, _ghastly _taking turns... left foot...right foot... left... right...

The old man is brought back to reality when _something_ drops onto the floor with an audible thud. Doctor Jenkins shakes his head and looks again at the screen.

Batman and Joker are dancing.

Everything is back to normal.

The old man massages his temples and searches for the item that fell. Finally, he notices a book lying next to his chair. He crouches and reaches for the book... He recognizes it, the drawings, the fox on the page...

_You become responsible forever for what you've tamed._

_You're responsible for your rose._

The lines pop out as if they were highlighted. Doctor Jenkins' grip slips and the book drops again onto the carmine surface of the carpet.

"Doctor Jenkins – I happened to walk by and heard noise coming from over there. Are you alright..?" Anne Carver asks, standing in front of the ajar door. She gasps when Doctor Jenkins glances at her.

"Oh _**my**_!" she exclaims in shock, bringing her hand to cover her mouth. "... What happened, Doctor Jenkins?"

...

"You – you are pale as if you had just seen a _ghost_..."

* * *

_**Author's ranting notes:**_

**- **To be honest, I _am_ intrigued by the weird way Joker fancies Batman. It's _twisted_. It's _perverse_. It's _sick_. And, most of all, it's _misunderstood_... because we tend to reflect on our own experiences on love and fit them into the Joker's persona. To put everything briefly: no-one (not even I!) is going to ever truly get a hold of his style of loving. And that – **that** is what makes it so _thrillingly_ wonderful! Of course, as this is just my humble view on the subject, you are free to disagree!

**- **The dancing stuff is clichéd, but after seeing the haunting artwork of Joker holding Batman's bloody suit in a closed position... I simply. couldn't. help. it.

I like to think that Joker and Batman's different dancing styles depict their views on the world: Joker is chaotic, while Batman is all organized. Order is a single, strict sequence; chaos, well, it includes every single arrangement ever imaginable – even the one which we call "_order_". Thus, Batman won't ever adapt to Joker's whims, while the clown is able to follow the other man's discipline (_for a very short period of time, though!_).

- I didn't dive deeper into what Joker is wearing during the dancing scene. If you are interested, here's some of the equipment he has on:

_**A simple, white mask**_, to ensure that Joker won't bite anyone.

_**"Gloves" **_that bind his fingers together. The personnel don't want him to go clawing or anything of such.

_**Slippers. No shoes. **_So that he wouldn't kick nastily.

_**A zinnia**_. On his chest. No other purpose than just to be a decoration.

- In this chapter, Joker mentions that everyone becomes inevitably rotten around him. While Batman is the most tolerant one to Joker's messing, I personally would imagine that the madman gives some sort of _respect_ to those who show aspiring potential... Commissioner Gordon being one, for instance.

- You can find one cha-cha version of Tea for Two on YouTube: "TOMMY DORSEY Orch.- Tea For Two - Cha Cha, arr.& cond. by Warren Covington". And while you are at it, listen to Shostakovich. It's pretty nice!

* In Outsiders Vol 3 Issue 3, Lex Luthor says to the Joker: "_You can keep __**screwing **__with his [Batman's] city, but he is __**never **__gonna take you to the __**prom**__!_"

** In Catwoman #14 (2012), Catwoman (hah) states: "_You don't want Batman dead. You are the one in love with him._" – after which Joker replies: "_Of course. Isn't that __**obvious**__?_"

*** Joker refers to the time he was _Emperor Joker_, an omnipotent, godlike version of himself.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Author's note:**_

**Spoiler warnings: **Identity (Milan Kundera), The Metamorphosis (Franz Kafka) and The Masque of the Red Death (Edgar Allan Poe).

**Other warning: **This chapter contains harsh talk about real life occurrences and people.

**Special candy: **_**lovejoker **_made a _**wonderful**_ illustration regarding the previous chapter! Because of FF's policies, I cannot put a direct link to it… But you can find the art piece on her DeviantArt profile "_lovejoker4ever" - Shostakovich Waltz No. 2_. Go and check it out. right. now! (:

Still here? Oh boy – thanks for wasting your precious time on reading this fic, haha! Lots of Christmas presents to _**TooLazyToSignIn **_(Glad to hear that!), _**Emma **_(I'm very bad at improvising, so yes – I have a basic plot planned beforehand. Thanks for the question and the review in overall!), _**lovejoker **_(oh boy. oh. boy!), _**septimaluna, Unluvd **_and _**Blood Red Rose **_for dropping candies into my sock! If you left a review and were signed in, I poked you with a PM – I hope this didn't bother anyone.

Oh, and before I forget: Happy Holidays, everyone!

* * *

**Saturday, 2:24 p.m.**

"Knock, _knock,_ _little_ _**doc**_!" Joker exclaims, clearly pissed off. "You have been going _torpid_ awfully lot lately! Tell me – is it my eyes you have been ogling so dreamily at? Because, I have to warn ya… one could get _**drowned **_into them and _never come back_."

Doctor Jenkins startles.

"I… I am sorry", he finally stutters. "… You were saying..?"

The pale man exhales heavily.

"Oo_oo__**ooh**_, this is simply _dis. graceful_! _**Outrageous**_! – A _comedian_'s worst nightmare come true… _a_ _**comatose**__ audience_!" Joker howls in fury. "That's **it**! You really owe me an explanation, _doctor_. Is there something troubling you?"

"Nothing, Mr. Joker–" Doctor Jenkins starts hesitantly, but his sentence is cut by his patient.

"_Methinks you speak not the truth saying that!_" Joker snaps in a high-pitched voice – then, continues, changing his tone completely:

"_Did you see my __**nose quiver **__when I spoke? 'Faith, it must have been __**a**__**monstrous lie **__that should move it_!"

"… Excuse me?" the old man asks, dumbfound.

"Oh, it's a play. Rostand's _Cyrano de Bergerac*_, to be exact…" Joker explains, and suddenly, his anger is switched with evident self-satisfaction. "You just reminded me of Cyrano himself. _Hee! _Hmmm, _your_ nose is _no_ match to his, but it did shift an inch just now."

Doctor Jenkins touches the tip of his nose out of reflex; a gesture which makes Joker snicker mockingly. The pale man turns his gaze at a book on the desk.

"Ah, and speaking of the devil… I was sincerely surprised to find him even in _that_ novel – _Identity_…"

"_Hmmm_", Doctor Jenkins hums and nods. He is slightly relieved by the change of topic. "What are your thoughts about the book?"

Joker stares at the ceiling, lost in thought.

"… It has an amusing description of _**jealousy**_", he finally says. "You know, the book is centered on this lovey-dovey pair, _Chantal _and _Jean-Marc_. Everything goes ah – ever. so. well _**until**_, one day, Chantal tells Jean-Marc that she is upset… because _other men don't find her desirable any longer_. Well, if that isn't the worst thing a chap could hear his sweetheart say… _Heehee_!"

The pale man laughs.

"Uh. _Anyway_! Jean-Marc wants to make Chantal _**smile **_again, and so, he starts writing anonymous letters to her… all praising her unrivaled beauty. Except for the first message, every small paper slip is marked with a simple signature: _C. D. B_…"

"_Cyrano de Bergerac_", Doctor Jenkins says and smiles a little. Joker looks at him, content that the older man is clearly following the speech this time.

"… The plan works splendors! With every passing letter, Chantal cheers up more and more… But, then, it strikes Jean-Marc: the words of an _unknown_ man have more effect on Chantal than _Jean-Marc's own_! Subsequently, Jean-Marc becomes jealous to an **imaginary** person that he – _**he**_ created _himself_…"

Joker's mirth grows into an uncontrollable gale. The doctor thinks silently for awhile, before asking:

"Have _you_ ever been jealous, Mr. Joker?"

The other man giggles.

"But, _**my**_. Are you really that blind? – I'm being all _**green-eyed**_ even at this precise moment, doc 'kins! _Hee_. You see, that one. _flying. rodent…_ hasn't visited for _a whole week_ now. I guess he didn't appreciate the trick I played on him the last time^…" Joker replies jovially and lifts his shoulders. "Ah well. I'll just have to remind him of my _delightful_ existence if this goes on."

The sentence makes a shiver go down Doctor Jenkins' spine. Even though Joker's voice is light and carefree, there is a hint of eeriness in it. The pale man seems to be pondering something, gazing blankly at nothing in particular.

Then, all of a sudden, his eyes light up.

"What about _**you**_, doc?" Joker asks perkily. "Have you ever gone through a lovely phase of jealousy?"

"… Fortunately: no. I haven't", the doctor answers in a sigh. "We shouldn't be talking about me, Mr. Joker. It's _**you**_ we are interested in…"

Doctor Jenkins pauses, noticing that the other man is staring at him intently.

"… Is there something wrong?"

Joker bursts into laughter.

"Oh doctor! Are you a relative to _**Pinocchio**_ or something..?" he manages to say in between cackling.

"… Your **nose** – it twitched **again**!"

* * *

**Friday, 5:12 p.m.**

Doctor Jenkins tries his best not to show any signs of astonishment when his patient does the unbelievable. It would only feed the pale man's narcissistic tendencies.

At the moment, Joker is reciting John Keats' _Ode to a Nightingale_ without even giving a side glance at the paper in front of him.

"… _and for how many a time_

_I have been half in love with easeful Death…"_

His voice shifts radically, mimicking sadness, hope and yearning: all these feelings, yet none of them sound sincere. Joker plays his part far too theatrically – which he does most likely on purpose.

In an odd way, Doctor Jenkins finds his patient's performance captivating nonetheless.

"… _Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird!_

_No hungry generations tread thee down;_

_The voice I hear this passing night was heard_

_In ancient days by… (hee)… emperor… and clown..."_

Joker's body trembles in silent laughter.

"What is so funny?" Doctor Jenkins asks. His patient shakes his head softly and muses complete nonsense. Finally, the man manages to collect himself.

"_**Death**_, silly, old doc 'kins. That's what makes me **sneer** every time."

"_Hmmm_", the doctor hums. "_The final punch line_, as you like to call it. Actually, we could postpone our poetry session and discuss _this _theme. If you don't mind, that is…"

Joker rolls his eyes.

"_Oh, bon sang_! As much as I _**love**_ the topic, repeating myself drives me **nuts**!" he hisses in frustration. "_**Hmph**_. Very well! Let's give it another shot, then…"

The pale man inhales heavily – as if he was readying himself for a long dive.

"Death!" he exclaims. "It's the end, _finito_ – with _**no**_ applause and _**no**_ encore… As I've tried to tell you and everyone else in an _**infuriatingly**_ monotonous mantra, there. is. no. point in anything, doc! Yet, there you go, all stubborn… You think that this is just rambling of a _lunatic_. However – you read books and short stories, stumbling upon authors who share this same conclusion… and consider them – _oh_! – _**so**_ _deep _and _intelligent_! Now, _how could this be_..?"

Joker glares at the doctor as if he was trying to challenge the older man.

"Think of _Franz Kafka _and _The Metamorphosis_ – the main character turns into an oversized _cockroach_… the whole plot is that he stays as one, then goes and dies. No-one in his family gives a _**damn**_ about it… actually, they are _**relieved**_! Ah, and what about _Edgar Allan Poe, _doctor_.._? _The Masque of the Red Death _– the story line could be summarized: _there were people and they kicked the bucket_… Poe used more effort to describe _the decor_ than _the people_ roaming here and there."

Doctor Jenkins coughs dryly.

"Both of the writers suffered from _depression_, Mr. Joker. Surely, you are not using their _fictional_ works as an argumentation…" he remarks.

"Ah! Depression, anger, happiness, sadness – every single one of them is a reaction caused by the environment. What right do we have to categorize these thoughts, to say: '_This is healthy and unbiased; this is not_'? Fiction is **always** based on non-fiction, doc… but, if you really ask for _flesh_ and _bones_ instead of mere _**ink**_ – consider these", Joker says enthusiastically, takes a short pause, and then, continues:

"World War II, Japan, nuclear bombs dropped on Hiroshima. The propaganda brainwashes us to believe that every loss of human life has a noble meaning – well, tell that to all those who were blown into greasy, dark figures on the walls. _Hee_. They are not even remembered as names or faces… They were reduced to plain numbers: '_this many died during the war_'…_"_

Doctor Jenkins shifts on his seat, feeling particularly uncomfortable.

"_Marie Curie_ – you know, the woman who participated in the fight against cancer – she died of _aplastic anemia_… because of all the exposure to _**radioactive rays**_._ Hee!_ And **don't** even make me start with _William Huskisson…" _(Joker's voice tremors) "**Death**: it comes so suddenly! so _unexpectedly_! It does not care whether you have done good deeds or not; _it's the blind __**judge**__,_ _the __**mad**_ _executioner_! It's the _**meat grinder **_which turns everything into the same, lackluster _**barf**_…"

The pale man cracks up. Doctor Jenkins has his hand covering his mouth.

"How can you _**laugh**_ at these issues?" he manages to ask. "You think that there is nothing after death, yet you are not afraid of it – not even in the slightest_..?_"

Joker attempts to restrain his glee.

"_Heehee – ahaha ha. Ha… _Doctor, you are priceless! You are talking to a man who fell asleep – while resting on an **electric chair****!"

Doctor Jenkins looks hopefully at the clock. He is relieved to notice that they have run out of time. A couple of guards come and detach Joker from the chair, taking a hold of his shoulder –

but then, the pale man collapses without a warning, crashing his forehead against the desk and falling onto the floor.

The personnel are more than quick to surround him.

"… Are you alright..?" Doctor Jenkins asks. His voice trembles slightly because of the scare.

Joker is lifted up. He hangs his head limply downwards and giggles. The doctor notices a bit of blood coming down his patient's temples.

"Oh, ever so concerned, Doc 'kins! I'm completely OK. I have _a_ _low blood pressure_, is all… _Hee_. My vision blackens out quite easily if I stand up in a hurry…"

"… Take him to see a nurse", the old man says to the guards. Doctor Jenkins sits back onto his seat, covers his face with his hands, and when he is finally left alone in the room…

… He pukes into the trash bin.

* * *

_**Author's note:**_

_Twinkle, twinkle, little bat – how I wonder what you're at_! Hopefully, this Batman-less chapter didn't bore you. In any case, I swear: there _**is**_ a reason why he didn't make an appearance.

^ In the previous chapter, Joker let Batman take the lead without a fuss… _suspicious_, not much? Well, he played along just to get a chance to take the vigilante by surprise. When one came, Joker slipped his foot beneath Batman's, making the other man loose his balance. This way, Joker managed to pull Batman so that the vigilante took an extra step – and thus, had to improvise a little bit.

Joker's left foot got a nasty bruise, but he still thinks it was worth it.

* Joker quotes the play in The Joker: The Clown Prince of Crime #1: "_That would be grotesque – tears trickling…_"

It's worth mentioning that while I used the translation by _Anthony Burgess _in this chapter, _O'Neill_'s Joker refers to _Brian Hooker_'s version… I wouldn't be surprised if Joker was familiar with both of the translations, though.

** He actually did so in The Joker: Devil's Advocate.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Author's notes:**_

I did a two-chapter update – so, in case you haven't yet read the previous chapter… Go a bit backwards ;)

**Warning: **If you have no idea of what Grant Morrison did in Batman, Inc. #8... There will be a **HUGE** **spoiler** coming!

* * *

**Friday, 7:58 p.m.**

Everything happened in one blink of an eye.

He tries to collect his thoughts. He had just a session with Joker, but now, he is sitting here –

– at the _Director's office_.

"Dr. Jenkins", a soft, almost sweet – yet cold – voice speaks from behind the back of a black leather chair. "One man _died_ and another one became _severely_ injured today… I have a justifiable reason to doubt that you have done a grave mistake… as _his _personal doctor."

Doctor Jenkins feels sweat form on his forehead. He stares blankly at the heap of empty McDonald's packages lying on the desk in front of him.

The place is in just as a messy state as his head.

"They found a… _particular_ object from poor Johnson's _**trachea**_", the voice continues. The chair turns slowly around. "… Do you recognize this _**pen**_ as yours, Dr. Jenkins?"

Director Alyce Sinner holds a small, plastic bag in between her thumb and index finger. There is a white, blood-stained ballpoint pen inside.

Doctor Jenkins gulps. His mouth is dry. The taste of vomit lingers still on his tongue.

"Cute. It has even your name on it", Director Sinner says and smiles faintly. She drops the bag onto Doctor Jenkins' lap.

"_Doctor Arkham_ used to give out those kinds of silly things during his time. He was a soft leader… but, softness doesn't _work_ on the _evil_ that lurks inside these walls. Instead of _patting_ these murderers on their heads, we should _**strike **_the madness out of them. With your methods, Dr. Jenkins, we get _well-read_ lunatics instead of _sane_ citizens. And now – I've even heard that you have arranged… _dates_… to your patient."

Silence. Doctor Jenkins tries not to squirm on his seat.

"All this makes me think… You are at a very suitable age to consider _retiring_, Dr. Jenkins."

"You aren't–" the old man blurts. Director Sinner laughs at the reaction.

"I am _not_ retiring you by force", she says. "**However**, I've been reconsidering your high status in this asylum. You have been working with the Joker quite long, and it seems like you are _stuck_. We should give another psychologist a chance."

Doctor Jenkins cannot believe his ears. _She can't be–_

"... Dr. Jenkins. I'm going to place you on another case."

The world starts to wave in front of Doctor Jenkins' eyes.

"I haven't decided yet who is going to be your new patient, but I'll inform you when everything is clear. In the meantime… You could fill _Berg_'s empty seat. He is _the one_ who got _killed_, just for your information…"

Director Sinner glares at the doctor. He thinks that there is an almost unnoticeable, malicious sneer on her face.

"… He should normally be monitoring the A-block of the asylum from 9 p.m. to 4 a.m. The job should be easy for you since it doesn't require physical power. You just have to watch a couple of computer screens and push the alarm button if anything happens. The monitoring room is over here…"

She takes a map from beneath all the trash and points at a small area on the paper.

"You may start your shift on Monday. Here are the keys…" the director muses and, with a single motion of her hand, pushes the greasy paper packages onto the floor. She finds the keys and gives them to Doctor Jenkins, whose hand is shaking.

The old man rises from his seat, turns to leave the office… but then, Director Sinner speaks one more time:

"_Ah_. You are always in such a hurry! Before you go, I have _something_ to give you… I thought that since you like reading so much, you might enjoy _this_", the director says and hands a thick book to Doctor Jenkins.

"_It has a very fascinating approach on __**sins**__…_"

The old man recognizes the novel instantly:_ Dante's Divine Comedy_.

* * *

**Tuesday, 1:13 a.m.**

Doctor Jenkins sits in a dim-lit room. He isn't used to be awake during such late hours and is fighting sleep by drinking coffee.

The night is tranquil.

Calendar Man paces around his cell.

Jane Doe rests on her bed, waving her legs up and down. It seems that her helmet is yet to be fixed.

Dr. Jenkins saw Anne Carver leave her office after 9:30 p.m. – he is genuinely surprised that she works so late.

But, what Doctor Jenkins cannot help but stare at – is the cell of his former patient. Joker is fastened on his bunk with countless straps. Because of the straitjacket and the headgear, the old man hasn't been able to see Joker directly. Even so, there he is – the man whom Doctor Jenkins will probably never talk to again.

The thought feels odd.

The doctor leans on the desk. Dante's Divine Comedy lies next to his cup.

He sighs and takes the book, shuffling its pages, glancing at the grotesque illustration. The unfortunate souls are ripped to pieces, they are burnt to ashes, they mourn, they cry.

Then, Doctor Jenkins stumbles upon a drawing of a boat on the sea. There are people in the water, hands held up high, fighting against drowning. They try to get into the boat, only to be pushed back into the tide.

There is a woman lying in the waves.

Doctor Jenkins closes the book. His breathing is ragged. He turns his gaze back to the screens,

_only to notice a black spot in the Joker's cell_.

The doctor can't believe his eyes. While he was glancing through the book, _**Batman **_had made an entrance – all by himself, with _no_ help and _no_ permission to be there.

Doctor Jenkins pushes the audio on.

The vigilante puts _some sort of device _onto the Joker's helmet, after which he slides the headgear off, revealing the other man's distorted face.

"_**You have killed **__**again**_"_,_ Batman snarls. Joker snickers.

"Quite the detective, _Batsssss_! But, besides the _**obvious**_, what else do you know?" he replies gleefully.

"You pretended to be fainting and crashed against a desk. In reality, you used the impact to get a ballpoint pen drop onto the floor. You hid the object beneath your arm, and when you got the chance… You murdered Berg and attacked Johnson, while _holding the pen in between your __**teeth**_. And all this because…" Batman stops and covers his face with his hand. "… _You wanted to see me._"

"_Yesssssss… _Indeed. A lovely **love letter**, no?" Joker hisses and giggles. "I needed you **here**. You see… I am not… _hurt _or _weepy _or anything because of your absence – ok, **ok!**_** –**_ _maybe just a li__**iiiii**__ittle bit_. _Hee_. But in all seriousness, you have been. acting. _very_. _**stupidly**_. these past few weeks."

Joker's voice changes from eerie happiness to sheer anger.

"I **am** aware of your recent _**loss**_ in _feathery friends_. _**Gee**_, I actually _almost_ liked the chap myself! Sure, _he_ was a total sour-ass, but _hey_, so are **you**. Besides, the boy certainly knew how to have _**fun**_…*"

"… **Don't you ****dare**** talk about **_**him**_", Batman warns. The vigilante turns around so that his back is at Joker's direction.

"_Oh_! But I **will**, like it or not. _He_ is, after all, the very reason you have been going all _brain-wreck _around the town", Joker snaps. "You know, I told the lad the last time we had a _fiesta_: '_**Robin'**__s greatest fear is being responsible for __**Batman**__'s death, and __**Batman**_**'**_s greatest fear is being responsible for __**Robin**__'s death**._' I wouldn't have guessed that I was this _**damn **_right when I said those words…"

Joker moves restlessly under the straps.

… Doctor Jenkins gasps when, suddenly, one of them opens up…

"Enough", Batman says. His voice is breaking. "If **this **is all you had in mind, I'm wasting my time here…"

"Ta-**ta**! You will **stay** and _**listen**_, _**Bat-breath**__._"

Batman's head lifts in realization; he takes a step, making himself rotate –

and sees Joker _standing_ right in front of him, _free of all restrictions_. The pale man lunges at the vigilante, who in turn pushes the attacker away with raw force.

Joker thuds against the wall and slides downwards, giggling all the way.

"_Ah hee__**hee**__ ho! _The funniest thing! – you actually _**think **_that it's **you** who should_ be __**blamed**_ for the little bird's death", Joker laughs and lifts himself up.

"_**Shut up**_!" Batman gnarls. The pale man keeps on cackling.

"_Hee! _**You**! You _delusional, _wannabe_-__**Macbeth**_! You try to wash nonexistent blood from your hands – blood that never touched them! And **no** – don't try to _claim otherwise_! I** know**. I **see** it in your eyess_ss__**ss**_ even when you stare. back. at. me. You assume even the murders **I've** done as _your own_, you **greedy** martyr..!"

The vigilante snarls and charges at Joker. The pale man spreads his arms wide, continuing his speech:

"… You say that you are a vigilante, **but **I'll tell you what you really are– _ungh!_"

Batman punches Joker's stomach.

"… _Ah hee… _you… you are a _frickin… miserable __**pity party**_! I knew it the first time I saw ya… _ghhh_", the pale man wheezes. Batman has a hold of his throat.

"_Hhhh… _I was… at first… _hahhh. _Completely _**OK**_ with it. You were probably born from it, after… all… so I thought it wasn't so… bad…" Joker manages to say. "But now, it has to **stop**. It's… **smothering… **you! _**ghg**_ – _ruining… my… plans…_"

Batman frowns. His lips twitch slightly downwards. Finally, he loosens his grip and lets Joker drop down onto the floor.

The pale man gasps for air, leans closer to Batman and brings his arms around the vigilante's leg.

"Don't be selfish and disappear **again**… There is no excitement in playing the both sides – you left already once and I had to drink _frickin' __**tea **_all the time! _Frickin'. __**tea**__, _for **Chrissakes*****! Save at least a bit of your pity for poor old me and…"

"… _stop feeling so damn __**guilty **__about everything_!"

…

_**Guilty**_.

The word tolls a bell inside Doctor Jenkins' head, and suddenly, he notices that tears start trickling uncontrollably down his cheeks. He finally _remembers_, the things he did, the reason why he has been feeling a heavy weight pressuring him all these years…

Doctor Jenkins turns his gaze away from the two and looks at the wall next to him.

There is a shadow, a humanlike figure, drawn onto the bland wallpaper. The braids sway gently as the shadow curtsies at the doctor.

"Are you _still_ insisting on teaching me how to dance?" the old man asks, his voice trembling. The solution is forming in his mind. He gazes at the figure and shakes his head softly, smiling in a sad manner.

"… Very well. I will give it a one _last_ try, _Catherine_."

* * *

**Friday, 8:56 p.m.**

"Still working, Dr. Carver?" Doctor Jenkins asks jovially. The woman startles and turns to face the old man.

"Oh, **my**. Dr. Jenkins!" she exclaims. "I… I heard of your transfer to other duties and… I have been trying to find you! Where have you been?"

Doctor Jenkins smiles.

"Oh, have you been worrying about me, Dr. Carver?" he asks and laughs lightly. "There's no need to. Actually, I have never felt this good in my life… Perhaps this change is only for the best."

Dr. Carver examines the man's face thoroughly.

"… Indeed", she finally says, nodding. "You _do _seem much better than you have these past weeks… In fact, you even look younger by a year or two!"

Doctor Jenkins waves his hand.

"Oh, now you are trying to flatter me", he replies. The old man lifts a cup. "I happened to see you a bit earlier… I thought that perhaps a cup of coffee would brighten up the evening."

Dr. Carver takes the cup.

"Thank you", she says and sighs. "... I shouldn't be here at this time… But I just can't bring myself to go back home. There is no-one to wait for me, after all…" (Dr. Carver shakes her head softly and takes a sip) "It's pretty lonesome to work here, Dr. Jenkins. Even though we are not the inmates, people seem to be frightened of us."

She looks at the doctor.

"I hope that I'm not… crossing the line by asking this – but, isn't it true that you have never married?"

Doctor Jenkins lifts his shoulders.

"Yes, it is true", he says, but adds quickly: "_However_, it doesn't mean that the same fate will wait you. You are still _young_, Dr. Carver. You will have _many_ opportunities."

"… I'm sorry", Dr. Carver apologizes, a bit ashamed. "… Thank y–"

Her sentence gets cut. She brings her hand to her forehead, breathes heavily –

and collapses onto the floor.

Doctor Jenkins shakes his head.

"… **I **should be the one apologizing, Dr. Carver", he sighs and starts to lift Dr. Carver's unconscious body.

…

"_I hope that, someday, you will be able to forgive me."_

* * *

_**Author's note:**_

Oh-oh! The final countdown is starting…

Regarding the previous chapter: The reason why Joker laughed during the poem… Well, he already knew that Robin is dead, and the words fitted the situation. After all, "the Bird" is Damian, "the emperor" Batman and "the clown"… Well, you know.

* Joker refers to Batman and Robin (2010) #13. In this issue, Damian brings a crowbar to Joker's cell and things get a bit funny.

** A quote from the rebooted Batman and Robin #15.

*** Grant Morrison made Bruce to go for a time trip in The Batman: The Return of Bruce Wayne. While Batman was gone, Joker pretended to be Oberon Sexton, an English writer and amateur detective. He appears in this role in Batman and Robin, starting from the issue #5.

_My theory_: He had a mask covering his whole face, thus he didn't _really _need to drink tea at all. He simply wanted to play his part up to the finest detail – even when no-one was watching. He is mad, after all.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's notes:**

Oh my! Whoever you are on the other side of the screen… Thanks for accompanying this journey until this very moment! After this upcoming chapter, the story will reach its end (hopefully, it is not a disappointing one).

Special thanks to _**Shiore-Hikaru**_, _**lovejoker, evillives4ever **_(That's a great thing to hear!)_**, TamyG, Emma **_(Seriously - you are far too kind! I also find Anne Carver's character fascinating: she didn't have many appearances in the comics; yet, she managed to capture the reader's attention... perhaps even sympathy. I hope that 2014 has begun well for you!)_**, Spotsylvania, harlecat **_and_** BatmanNerd0399**__! _You guys seriously keep on surprising me time after time!

* * *

**Saturday, 7:03 a.m.**

A massive door clanks open, after which two figures enter a padded cell.

"I wonder why you bother, Director Sinner... to come all the way here, just to release that _freak _out of his _sardine can_."

"_Oh_, Cash. I take any excuse available to get out of that dusty office."

"_Ha_. Figures", Aaron Cash sneers. "… How long are you planning to go on like this, though? I mean – have you found a suitable person to claim Dr. Jenkins' place?"

The two walk closer to a bunk and a lying form of a man on it…

"_Dr. Bartholomew_ is interested in the position", Director Sinner replies.

"_He_?" Cash blurts. "No **offence**, director… I always thought that Dr. Jenkins was an _oddball_, but Dr. Bartholomew – he is of completely another _**species**_."

The comment makes the woman laugh.

"Is that so?" the director asks and puts her hand on the lying man's headgear. "If that's the case, he will fit into this place rather well."

She slides off the helmet, but as she does so,

_a surge of carmine liquid _bursts out, splashing onto the floor and onto Director Sinner's white trousers.

...

"… _bloody __**hell**__…_"

* * *

**Saturday, 8:16 a.m.**

A mixture of rain and sleet falls against the pavement of Arkham Asylum. Commissioner Gordon wipes his glasses with the sleeve of his trench coat.

"We visited here approximately a week ago", he states. "Who is it _this _time?"

"Depends on what you exactly mean by '_who_' – the murderer **or** the corpse?" Director Sinner remarks. "Whichever way, we don't have a clear answer. I do, however, have some doubts…"

The director stops as she notices that Commissioner Gordon is glancing over her shoulder into the dryness and warmth. She steps aback, invites the police officers in and leads them through the building.

Finally, they reach the Joker's cell. The locking of the door is set off, leaving the passage wide open.

There is a body on the other side of the room.

Blood circles the victim's head, droplets still slithering in soft

_drip_,

_drip,_

_drips_...

Commissioner Gordon steps into the room, but then, suddenly, he startles and turns his head to his right...

He lowers his shoulders almost instantly.

"Oh, it's just _you_", the commissioner sighs in relief. Batman comes into the view.

"Commissioner. You should leave your men to document the scene and follow me. I've already scanned the area, and there is nothing of special interest in here", the vigilante says, pats the other man's shoulder and walks over to Director Sinner.

"You have_ records_ of the surveillance cameras, I presume?"

* * *

**Saturday, 8:38 a.m.**

The door of the monitoring room is crashed into sharp pieces of wood.

"Aaron Cash bashed _it_ in", Director Sinner explains. "After we called the police, we came here to look for the recordings. Hopkins was supposed to be on his monitoring swift. However, for some unknown reason, he wasn't here. We didn't have the keys…"

"Couldn't you wait?" Commissioner Gordon asks, trying not to step on the spiky parts.

"… We were about to. Then, we heard this voice – Dr. Carver's muffled sound – on the other side of the door. We didn't know whether she was in danger or not."

"… _Dr. Carver_? Where is she now?" the commissioner inquires.

"She is resting at the medical wing. She was knocked unconscious by our own sedatives, but other than that, no physical damage was done to her. However, she is going through a shock", the director answers. "... We didn't get anything comprehensible out of her."

"We will need to speak with her later on", Commissioner Gordon murmurs.

Director Sinner sits onto the chair and starts to rewind the happenings in the Joker's cell. The vigilante stops her halfway, pointing to a blacked-out screen.

"Whose cell should this be showing?" he asks.

The director thinks for awhile, glancing at the other displays, until it dawns on her…

"_Jane Doe_'s", she says. "… Are you thinking…"

"I suspect so", Batman replies. He turns to look at Commissioner Gordon.

"The video can wait. If we want to follow _Dr. Jenkins' _footsteps in a chronological order, this is not the right place to start."

* * *

**Saturday, 9:04 a.m. (The medical wing)**

Anne Carver wakes up in a softly dimmed room.

There is a hand on hers.

She moves her hand out of reflex and looks to her left, all wide-eyed, just to notice Aaron Cash sitting beside her bed.

"Anne!" he exclaims in relief. "… How are you feeling?"

"I'm... alright?" she answers, rubbing her eyes with a bit too much pressure. The memories of the last night hit her, and she begins to search her surroundings with her gaze.

"Where are my glasses?" Dr. Carver asks. Aaron Cash hands them to her.

She puts them to their place, sits up, and slides off the bed and onto her feet.

"… Where are you going?" Aaron Cash asks, startled, and goes after her.

"It's Doctor Jenkins. I have to find out what happened."

"Doctor Jenkins?" Cash repeats, and sheer anger fills him. "_I'll __**strangle**__ the __**bastard**__ if he has done anything…_"

Anne Carver glares at him, and he stops. He sighs and continues in a calmer manner:

"The police are here – let them do the investigation. They might want to speak with you. You really should rest."

"Why do you fuss so much?" Anne Carver sighs. Aaron Cash casts his eyes to the floor.

"I fuss… because I care about you, Anne", he says in a silent voice.

Dr. Carver halts, turning to the man behind her. She inhales and lets the air out in a slow, long sigh.

"… I know", she finally replies. She takes a couple of steps closer to Cash and puts her hand on his arm softly.

"Aaron… I am sorry that I have been unfair to you, dismissing your feelings. But… it would never work with us. To be honest, I've been thinking for the reason _why_… And finally, during the last night… I got the answer. It's this _place_, Aaron. _You_ remind me too much of this _building_. You are not merely in this asylum – the asylum is in you: it's in the way you speak, in your smell, in the structure of your body…"

Aaron Cash's eyes become damp, but no tears come out.

"Doctor Jenkins said: '_you are still young_'… That made me reconsider my current life. I don't want to stay and grow bitter inside these musty walls – I want to break free. If you really care about me, Aaron… You will let me go."

Cash swallows, clenches his fists, nods. Anne Carver smiles sadly, touches his cheek with her finger tips and turns to face the asylum for the last time…

… but, suddenly, she thuds against a frigid figure. She looks up, only to see Batman's white, blank eyes right above her. She backs off a bit, bumping against Cash this time.

Batman hands Dr. Carver a pile of papers.

"Are these yours?" the vigilante asks. Anne Carver gazes at the stack of letters in her hands, dumbfound. Finally, she starts to examine them one by one, slowly, and the realization strikes her...

"_Debts_… reminders of _unpaid rents_… a notification of _cutting off the electricity_…" she reads aloud, not believing what she is looking at. "All these – addressed to **_me_**? What is the meaning of this? Is someone trying to _blackmail_ me?"

"That would be Doctor Jenkins", Director Sinner cuts in, clearly enjoying the situation. "He told Jane Doe that you are _an Internet poker addict_ – a really unlucky and bad one, on the top of it..."

"**How dare he–**", Aaron Cash roars. Batman waves his hand.

"It seems that he got somehow to know about his habits… _Like twitching a nose while lying_… and thus, managed to trick Jane Doe to _do him a **favor**_", the vigilante murmurs.

"Dr. Carver… You might not realize it, but his lie **saved** your _life._"

"**What**?" Dr. Carver blurts.

"Jane Doe has been watching you. She had probably formed an idealized mind image of your life, and started to wish to become you… But then, these papers made her change her mind. The fact that she revealed the letters is a sign that she has given up on you."

"Oh my…" Doctor Carver gasps. "… _What happened to him? – _to Doctor Jenkins?"

"We are trying to figure it out", Commissioner Gordon sighs.

"… but I have a feeling that this story isn't going to end well."

* * *

**Video recording – Saturday, 1:13 a.m.**

An old man enters the Joker's cell. His movements are clumsy, his body trembles; yet, he proceeds on his mission… He walks next to the bed, unlocks Joker's helmet and takes it off.

"… Doc 'kins..?" the pale man asks. "What the **heck** are _you _doing here?"

"… Mr. J-Joker", Dr. Jenkins says, his voice unsteady. He gives out a sound which resembles a short, dry laugh. "Ha-_how_… Did w-we… come to this s.. situation? – from the fuh-first session… When I t-thought tha-_that_ you would never even… th-_talk_ to me, and you did, you d-_did_… the rah-_real_ ph-problem was to make you… **stop**."

The old man shakes his head. Unexpectedly, Joker doesn't even try to cut in.

"Our lit.. literature sah-sessions… They made me r-remember… suh-someone _special_. Sh-_she_ wuh-_was_ just… a gh… girl among m-million others… when I first suh-saw hher… Bh-but then, she b-became _unique in all… the world_… I w-went head over heels for her. It w-was cuh-clear that she loved me, th-too, bah-but she didn't dh-do so… in the same w-way as I loved her. I was ghg… _greedy_. I couldn't _bear_ to see her with _someone else_… **Stuh- stupid… **_**jeh**_**-jealousy**!" (Dr. Jenkins swallows) "It – I – r… ruined her… I th-_took_ her to… fishing… And there, at the sea, _I drowned her_."

Joker stares indifferently as the other man breaks emotionally up.

"I am the dh-_dumb, _fuh-_**foolish**_ old man… and she w-was the fish. I be… betrayed her trust and love – th-turned her into a… a rotting ph-pile of flesh, ph-pushed her back into the… f-fuh… faceless crowd… And what's w-worse – I even dh-dared to forget… all about her! About us… Oh, G… _God_…"

Doctor Jenkins pauses and inhales heavily.

"You suh-said that there is… no m-meaning. Indh… indeed, that's w-what it really looks-h like… I have t-thought about it my… myself countless t… times, all these years… Bh-but now, I finally understand. _**Love**_, Mr. Joker – _love_ is… the suh-_sole_ ruh-reason for living. With ha-_her_, I lost my m-motive to go on… I'm hh... haunted by this _constant __**guilt**_…"

The old man starts to open up the straps.

"I.. I'm not sh-sure what… it is that you feel… f-for Batman… _but don't let go of it_. That m-might buh-be t-the only… thing kh-keeping you_ alive_…" the doctor manages to say. He helps Joker sit up and takes the pale man out of his straitjacket. When both of the men are standing, Doctor Jenkins whispers:

"Mr. Joker… As wh-weird as it ch-can be… I always… considered you a fuh-_friend_. I doubt that y.. you ever th-thought the s… same of me… but, if you have e-even the slightest rh-_respect_ for ph-poor me… _let me exchange places w-with you_."

And with that, Doctor Jenkins _takes off his own face_, revealing the bloody bandages underneath. He hands the limp skin to Joker, who doesn't even flinch at the sight; the pale man simply takes the skin, and with a swift movement, covers his face with it, transforming into Doctor Jenkins.

The old man laughs dryly. Joker helps the doctor get into the straitjacket, and after that, onto the bunk.

"Th-that bh-bag… It has every… thing you need to pass the security ph-points…" Doctor Jenkins tells as Joker fastens the straps…

… and when the pale man starts to slide the headgear to its place, Doctor Jenkins hums – a song, slowly, as if he was lulling himself for the final sleep.

Joker stands next to Doctor Jenkins' lying form for a while.

"Doc 'kins… It's funny. You never got me right… I **did **consider you a **friend**", the pale man murmurs.

…

"… I just never had **any** sort of _respect_ for you."

And then, Joker bursts into laughter, leaning against the edge of the bed… but that Doctor Jenkins will never hear.

* * *

**Saturday, 12:07 p.m.**

"So, that's what happened", Commissioner Gordon murmurs as he and Batman exit the building. "Fortunately, at least Dr. Carver is safe."

The vigilante merely lets out a low sound to show that he is listening.

"However, the Joker… He is loose _again_", the commissioner sighs. "… I sure hope that he doesn't confuse _my home as a **hotel** and me as a **taxi driver **__this time_…"

Batman looks questioningly at the other man, but doesn't receive a further explanation.

It's still raining.

Doctor Jenkins' corpse is brought out in a bag… but, as the men carry his body, one of them stumbles, and the stretcher turns so that the bag drops down onto the ground. As if it was by the will of some higher being, the plastic container rips open…

… and Doctor Jenkins' head slides out, into the rain, water soaking his face and washing him clean of the blood.

Batman turns his gaze up to the sky, and he doesn't know why – but somehow, as the drops hit his cowl… he feels as if a heavy weight was becoming slowly one with the water, trickling down, down, down, onto the mud and into the sewers.

* * *

**Author's notes:**

So, this is the end.

Doctor Jenkins is dead, Anne Carver survived through the horrors and Joker is free to bring havoc to the town… And Batman is slowly starting to win over one of his biggest enemies – self-blame / _guilt_.

As the name already points out, the feeling of guilt is the main theme of this story. Joker is a character who murders without remorse. Batman, on the other hand, hasn't done anything wrong; yet, he questions whether he has indirectly caused misery (f. ex. by putting young adolescents into dangerous tasks, luring criminals that want to challenge him...). Doctor Jenkins is one that _has_ committed a crime and _does_ feel guilt over it.

This story leaves a lot of things unknown. I hope that it doesn't come as a complete source of frustration. Exceptionally (considering my earlier stories), this story is told in the third person's point of view: this is because I didn't want Dr. Jenkins to become too close to the reader. He _is_ a character that is supposed to be left incomplete.

In any case... Thanks for staying on the ride until the bitter conclusion!

…

_BTW:_

_- _Hopkins didn't arrive because Dr. Jenkins had called him, telling that his monitoring swift had been moved.

- Doctor Jenkins stole Anne Carver's personnel card and some of her spit when she was knocked out. While monitoring, Dr. Jenkins noticed that the door of Jane Doe's cell uses spit for identification. The asylum tries to change the identification methods from time to time, so that the inmates wouldn't become familiar with the system.

_- _The song Doctor Jenkins hums in the video is _Guilty_ by _Al Bowlly_ (the song is originally written by Richard Whiting and Harry Akst).

- The part in which Joker laughs is highly inspired by Batman #23.1 / Joker #1. In this story (spoiler), Joker laughs when his gorilla companion dies.


End file.
